


lessons on loving a simulacrum

by amorremanet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Interspecies Romance, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Poetry, tumblr: deancaspoetryweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:19:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>how much of his real voice seeps into the one I hear?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	lessons on loving a simulacrum

**Author's Note:**

> Written for deancaspoetryweek 2013 and crossposted [to tumblr](http://amorremanet.tumblr.com/post/55807124892/lessons-on-loving-a-simulacrum).

I fell in love with a cyclone  
with some multi-headed horror  
and to his true form, I'm just a speck of dust  
another grain of sand among the  
billions and billions of others.

What's one life—what is the space,  
the time, the meaning of one human life—  
to a creature who's seen so many others  
flame up flare on burn out around him,  
who can see everything I live through in a blink?

I run my fingers down his borrowed face  
stare into unreal eyes that know too much but  
don't know anything at all, and they look back at me  
from some far off place I can't even begin to fathom  
that might make my mind implode if I so much as tried.

Moving mostly of their own accord, my hands  
help him shuck off this coat he's mooching, the suit  
that isn't his—I rub my calluses down his chest,  
and this skin, to him, is also a suit, something crumpled  
that he only wears because he has to wear it.

Sometimes, he talks to me, over meals at a diner  
or lost in some hotel room, frantically fumbling off our clothes  
for a bit of respite before my brother gets back—and  
I can't keep my mind from wandering, can't help myself from wondering:  
how much of his real voice seeps into the one I hear?

And I know he could destroy me, if he wanted—  
believe you me, we've been there more than once before,  
he's come close to wrecking me in all the ways I didn't  
want—and sometimes, I sit back and speculate:  
would it really be so bad, that longing to be eaten?


End file.
